Nobody knows how a love starts or how it moves on or even when it ends. It just appears, grows and ends. Like us, mortals.
One way or another, it ends, not always literally saying, but at some moment it loses part of the meaning it used to have.
And for those that disagree, please maintain your ideas and believe in them. I don’t doubt of that or deny it, but I have my own opinions, that are not the most absolute truth, but my own absolute truth.
Anyway, you and I know that endless or not, love is the most unbelievable thing in human existence.
The “to love” and “to be love”, that’s what I’m talking about.
The fact that among billions of people in the world, two of them look at each other as if they were unique. That among billions of people, you just want one person that wants you back. That it exists something so much stronger than anything, that is capable of destroy and raise whole universes. And that thing is inside people.
It is not a little thing, and it’s not for cheap sentimentalism that some stupid words try to describe it, for centuries we have been talking about. For centuries it is the favorite theme in poetry. Love, as it is, always love. Centuries and centuries later and no one gets tired of talking about it, or even hearing about it. Centuries and centuries later and the ladies are still crying, and the gentlemen still fighting.
Centuries and centuries later and they still Kiss each other in the end of the story. Centuries, centuries and centuries later and the idea never changes. But who said it has to be changed? We want it like this, we will cry at the end, it is not a matter of time. Love is timeless, and will always be the center of attentions.
Just because love is strong. More than just “strong”, it’s indestructible.
Love makes us suffer. Nothing in the world brings so much pain as love. It can be tough, cruel. It can tear us apart. It can be the biggest villain of a story. It can be the purest and the hardest pain ever.
But still, it’s love.
And if by one side it makes you suffer, for a thousand of others, it’s the cure for any other pain. It’s the peace and the tranquility, the medicine, the suture. It’s the breath, the awaken. It’s the simple existence of who loves and who believes that beyond love, there’s nothing more necessary. Oh, what a virtue it is to feel!
What a virtue it is to believe in love! What a gift is to be a poet, even without words, that has the most beautiful poetry inside himself. Oh, what a virtue it is to feel what other can’t believe. What a gift it is to live for someone, and to have someone to live for you. What a beauty love is.
After all, if we are here, it is for love.